


Helping Hands

by WaywardDemons



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Help, Jealous Dean, Original Character(s), Rough Sex, Sensitive Sam, Shower Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 12:06:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10853670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaywardDemons/pseuds/WaywardDemons
Summary: Needing help was never something Y/N liked to admit, but she finally needs it and who else does she call but the Winchesters.





	1. Chapter 1

You sighed into the phone, “I hate doing this.” You could hear the faint breath of the other person on the phone. They’d been quiet since they heard your voice, and only replied with short curt answers, and only breathing in short little pants. Not you, your heart was racing, your legs bouncing up and down as you nervously tried to get through this phone call.

The sun was barely rising, birds chirping as they flew overhead. The day was going to be a nice one. It was the first day of spring after all. Blood was caked to your clothes, to your face, and to your hands. You couldn’t even tell which was yours anymore, or which was… “It’s just- I’ve never hunted something like this before.”

You ran hand through your hair and closed your eyes. You hated this, hated the sting of tears threatening to fall from your eyes. The pain was starting to return. No longer did you have adrenaline to subside it. You looked up at the sky, the pinks and yellows starting to blur in your vision. “And I think- _fuck_ \- I can’t believe I’m admitting this, but I think I need your help.”

You bit down on your lower lip as you waited for a response on the other side of the phone. It was taking longer than you wanted it too, which was making your heart skip a few beats.

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. You could hear him shuffling around, could hear him shut is laptop and set down his beer as if that would help him hear you better. “We don’t have anything going on right now. Where did you say you were?” His voice picked up a beat, as if he was actually excited about helping you out.

You were relieved, breathing in the fresh air around you. “Thank you so much. I’ll text you my address.” And you quickly hung up the phone, not allowing any more words to be shared between you. You took a deep breath, leaning back against your front door. After a moment of silence, after your heart started to beat a little more normal, you glanced at your phone screen.

You clicked on his name, thumb floating over the button to text him. You sighed, ‘ _What are you doing? He already agreed to come and help you. Just send him your damn address so he can be here already_.’ In a few short little strokes your address was typed up, all ready for you to click send so help would be at your aid. You clicked it, and waited.

**_‘: )’_** Was the only reply you got back, a simple little smiley face.

You sighed, hitting your head against your door. You hadn’t even made it into the comfort in your home. You sat bruised and beaten on your front porch. Legs splayed out in front of you, your jeans cut and stained with dark red blood. Your boots were off though, kicked off to the side.

You pushed your palm against the wood, feeling the grains against your skin. Every muscle in your body ached as you got to your feet. Bones creaking. The pain was worse now, and suddenly every scratch and gash was made apparent to you.

You leaned against the door frame as you tried to unlock it. Hands shaking and making the action seem nearly impossible. And suddenly you unlocked it, and were granted sweet access to the safety of your home. You slammed the door, and without picking up your feet you made your way to the couch, throwing yourself against it and letting the pain take over your body and let you slip into a deep sleep

* * *

You door opened, you could hear the faint little squeak from the hinges, and soon could hear the sound of heavy footsteps as they walked through your home. You lay there, opening your eyes and trying to assess just where you were. Your couch. You moved slowly, trying to find any sort of weapon that you would possibly have on hand. But of course, you didn’t.  Your table did though, and it was only a foot away.

You could hear the boots walking around, ‘ _Where they’re two of them?_ ’ They were no longer at the front of your house, they were making their way around, and by the sound of it, and they were in your room.

You rolled, quickly reaching for the gun tapped securely under the table, you aimed it towards where you could hear the footsteps. No lights were on in your house, and you could barely make out the shapes of the things around you. You got to your feet, once more feeling the surge of pain throughout your body.

You walked forward, gun cocked and ready. You could hear voiced from the next room, still no lights were on. You flipped the switch, and waited for your eyes to adjust as you tried to make out the figures before you.

Two large men stood before you, both holding a set of their own guns as they whipped around. “Dean? Sam?” You asked, holding your gun in place. “Wow. That was fast.” You said, clicking your gun into its safety and slipping it into your jeans. The cold of the metal sending goosebumps across your arms.

“What the hell happened to you?” Sam asked, eyes combing over your body. They lingered on your stomach, widening at they took in the damage you had previously taken. He shared a look with his brother, both who were hesitant to put their own weapons away. “Y/N? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. This is nothing.” You lied. The pain was still there, throbbing and constant. “I uh-“ You started, but you didn’t know what to say. This was the case, this is why you called them here even if it took a stab at your pride. And admitting that you had gotten this messed up wasn’t helping build it back up.

You tried to laugh, tried to cover up the tears that still wanted to fall as you took in every breath. “I’ma go get cleaned up. Make yourselves at home okay? There’s food and beer in the fridge.”

Dean and Sam shared a look again as you walked away. But neither moved. You were okay with this as you made it to your room. You all but fell on your bed, having a hard time keeping on your feet now. Your energy was draining, blood still soaking through your many layers.

You flipped on your bathroom lights, letting them hum above you. You looked at yourself in the mirror before you started. Dark circles were very apparent under your eyes, lips cracked and dry. Your skin was pale, paler than usual as you leaned against the counter. You blinked slowly, eyes trailing down your own body.

Your stomach looked the worst, because of course you wore a white tank top, or what had been white. Now, now it was a dark red and brown. Blood both fresh and dried and caked to your skin, as if your shirt was becoming a part of you.

Every little movement hurt, taking your breath out of your lungs. You hissed as you peeled your jacket off and dropped it at your feet. You took a moment, breathing in and out slowly, your head growing fuzzy. Your flannel was next, falling at your feet quietly with your jacket. Nothing compared to the pain of peeling off your tank top though. Slowly you peeled, slowly you ripped a felt your cuts reopening.

“Fuck.” You cursed, slowly and carefully trying to disconnect the tank top from your skin. You bit down on your lower lip, trying to keep yourself from letting out the string of curse words that were floating around in your head. You closed your eyes, trying hard to think about anything but this as you continued.

Sam knocked on the open door, “Need some help?” He asked. All he could see was your bare back, a black bra only hiding a small part of it. Cuts and scratches covered your milky skin. “You look terrible.” He said, not waiting to an answer.

You tried to laugh at his comment, but your mind was too busy. All you could think about was breathing in and out, was standing here without falling over. Your body in too much pain to even come up with a witty comeback for him like you would have been able to do on any other day.

It wasn’t until Sam was in your bathroom with you that he could see your stomach, see the deep gash that covered most of it. “Holy shit, Y/N, here. Let me help please.” Once again, he didn’t wait for an answer. He turned you, hands gripping your own to stop you.

“Please Y/N, let me help you.” He said again, this time on his knees. “Okay. Get in the shower. Here,” He turned on the water, feeling it before helping you step in. Jeans and shirt still stuck to you.

You didn’t stop the tears as they fell now. You had no strength too. Instead you let them mix with the water from the shower and mix with the blood before slipping down the drain. You leaned your head against the tiles, letting Sam work his magic on you. You felt defeated, felt helpless and weak.

“Almost done. Help me take your pants off.” Sam’s large hands found your hips, his fingers digging in as he tried to get you to stand up right. The water rolled over the both of you, falling against the white fiberglass below you.

“No!” You tried to yell, tried to pry his fingers off you. But you were weak, and could barely even move your arms. Your blood seemed like sandpaper in your body, and every movement scraped against your thin veins.

“Y/N, I need to make sure you don’t have more cuts.” Sam’s voice was stern, and even through your half open eyes you knew that he was just trying to care for you. “And we need to get you out of the water and start dressing them so they don’t stay open. You’ve already lost a lot of blood.”

You didn’t really help Sam, just a lift of your feet as he slid the wet jeans down your legs. If you had been able to make coherent thoughts, if you had been able to understand the situation, you would have been embarrassed at what was happening. You stood, in just a black bra and panties, in your shower as Sam Winchester searched your body.

The water running off you was clear now, you took that as a good sign. You took it as a better sign when Sam shut off the water and picked up your soaking wet body. You felt light, and liked the way Sam felt as he pressed you into his chest. You didn’t care that he was carrying you, didn’t care that you weren’t in control of anything, because this felt okay.

“What the hell?” Dean asked with this mouth stuffed with noodles. He held a bowl in one hand, a fork in the other. “I turn my back for two minutes, and you both start-“ His words fell flat when he noticed the state of Y/N.

Her still wet mostly naked body limply hanging in Sam’s arms. He stood, fear in his eyes as he looked at his brother. Dean set his bowl down, quickly chewed and swallowed the rest of what was in his mouth and quickly cleared a spot on your table for Sam to set you down.

“What the hell happened to you Y/N?” Dean asked. His hands hovered over you, as if he was scared to actually touch you, to break you.

Sam shuffled in his bag and set down the equipment they would need. “No time for questions Dean. Start sewing her up.” Sam practically threw the kit at his brother, Dean caught it and instantly started to go to work.

Both men looked down at you, stopping only for a moment when you would hiss out in pain to make sure you were okay. “Why didn’t you tell us Y/N?” Dean whispered more to himself than to you, but you heard him none the less.

“I thought I’d be okay.” You croaked between your dry lips. Dean gave you a glance, an understanding look in his eyes before he returned to your stomach. “Are you both almost done?” You’d been feeling better for a while now; and even though you didn’t want to admit it, it was because of the boys fixing you up like they were.

You still felt weak, still felt like you would need help getting up and off this table, but you were able to think clearly again. And you were suddenly so very aware of just how naked you were. You blushed, not that either of them noticed. They were too busy with their fingers against your rough skin, needles digging into your flesh and closing you up.

Dean was a lot rougher than Sam, Sam whose hands were so much bigger. You’d assumed it was because of that, that he trained himself to lightly push himself against you. You closed your eyes, ‘ _Why are they doing this? They barely know me_.’

“Okay, all closed up. I’ll- I’ll go get some clothes…” Sam said, quickly leaving the room and returning to yours. His boot steps were hurried, practically scraping against the ground and never leaving it as he made his distance.

Dean helped you sit up, his rough hands pressing against your back. “Whatever it was really got you good. What is it Y/N? What were you hunting?”

You gulped, “A Rugaru.”


	2. Chapter 2

You dressed slowly, pulling down your shirt and finally covering your bare skin. The cold cotton felt comforting against your warm skin, you hoped that infection was setting in. You took a moment to look in the mirror, raising your shirt up and seeing the brother’s handy work along your body.

Sam and Dean sat in your living room, their father’s journal in front of them as they glossed over the details of how to take out a rugaru. They talked loudly, allowing you to listen in and learn a little bit between the crack in your door. You marveled in the way they talked, in the experience they had, and the journal with missing clues in front of them.

“How did you make it out?” Dean asked, he shifted in his seat and glanced back at the closed door that sheltered for you. Judging by the way your body looked, you had put up a fight. But Dean had battled with a rugaru before, he knew how hard it could possibly be.

You entered the room, feet dragging along the carpet and leaving streaks as you made your way into the room with the two boys. You barely had enough strength to walk in the first place and were more than happy to be in your own seat, curling up into a ball as you finally could sit back and relax, for the most part. “I uh- I don’t know. She went one way and I took a chance and went the other.”

It was more than that, but the boys didn’t need to know. _You camped out in a closet, waiting and listening for the creature to be far enough away for you to get to your car, your saving grace. You had never been more scared in your life. You had assumed it was just a simple missing persons due to something simple, something you’d hunted before._

_Now you sat with your knees to your chest, an empty shot gun, an empty hand gun, and all your blades used. You had no idea what was going on, had no idea what to do. You mind raced, your heart not too far behind._

_You couldn’t hear anything, couldn’t hear the sounds of the creature around you anymore. You opened the door slowly, checking down the long hallway before slipping out. You were limping, legs growing stiff._

_It rounded the corner, growling as it started running towards you. You fumbled with the door knob, fingers shaking as they tried to unlock it. You could hear the creature before it attacked you, hear it breathe in deep before its hand stretched back._

_It happened in an instant, the cold knife in their hands digging deep into your stomach as you turned to slip out the door. The pain was instant, and made you almost keel over. Your vision started to grow white, your breathing hitched. Your car was only 5 steps away._

_One._

_The dirt under your feet felt like quick sand, sinking you down with every movement. Your legs didn’t want to move, even though they knew how important it was to get into your car. The still remained stiff, movements seeming almost robotic as you tried to take another step._

_Two._

_You couldn’t hear anything except your heart pounding in your chest. **ThumpThumpThump**. It echoed, loudly taking over all of your senses as you were blinded by the brightness of the sun._

_Three._

_You breathed in deep, hand clutching at the gash in your body._

_Four._

_Your heart beat was slowing, **Thump. Thump**._

_Five._

_You reached out, hands touching the metal of your car._

“How did you figure out it was?” Sam asked, eyes focused on your movements as you threw yourself down on a chair next to them. He pulled you back to reality, you blinked a few times, eyes burning from your sudden day dream, or was it a nightmare?

“I uh-“ You couldn’t look at the both of them, eyes focusing instead on the blood that stained your couch. “I called someone else before I called you. They told me what it was and to call you guys. Said you’d know what to do about it.” You shrugged as if it was no big deal, but everyone knew it was.

Calling in Sam and Dean was hard for you, they knew that too. They hadn’t heard from you in years, and you all agreed it was okay to keep it that way. And yet here they were, helping you, caring about you, worry in their eyes.

Sam and Dean shared a look before returning their attention to you. “Okay, well we will go back to the house and check it out. You stay here and rest.” Sam pat his thighs a few times before standing, his tall frame blocking the light.

You huffed, sitting back and not helping wasn’t normal for you. Hell, you’d been in worse conditions and still gotten up and kept fighting. Now that you were all stitched up what would be the hard to walk around and possibly help fight.

Dean wordlessly stood up and joined his brother, both leaving you silently as you sat there in your chair. You heard your door shut, heard Dean start his car, and soon your house was quiet.

* * *

“Everything ready?” Sam asked, nearing his brother at the trunk of his car. He slammed his door, metal scraping against metal as it made contact.

He breathed in the fresh air, finally happy to be out of the confined car. He stretched, arms reaching above his head. His bones creaked, body a little sore. Sam looked over the house, the large exterior seemed daunting. He could see the dried blood on the deck, your hand print smeared against the washed out wood. Sam sighed.

Dean flicked his lighter open, a small flame flickering in front of him. “Yup.” Dean tossed his brother his own homemade flame thrower. “Fire, always my favorite way to get rid of a monster.” Dean licked his lips in excitement, eyes lighting up with joy as he looked over his handy work.

Sam and Dean entered the home, footsteps light as they searched the whole property for the creature you had described to them.  They met back up by the front door a few minutes later, flame throwers at their side as they assessed that they were both okay.

“So what now?” Dean asked. He was disappointed, why wouldn’t he be? He’d gone here with the intentions of killing a monster. Now he was walking back to his car defeated and bored.

Sam threw this weapons into the trunk, “I don’t know. It’s not just gone though.” Sam walked to his door, boots crunching against the dirt under them, “I guess we should go back and figure out more about the case from Y/N.”

Dean sighed, “Yeah.” Dean slammed the trunk shut, he gave the house one last look before slipping into his seat.

* * *

Dean walked towards your front door, gun cocked and ready. His steps were slow, calculated and precise. The wood under him creaked slightly from his weight.  He held his gun on the back of the door as he opened it.

“Hey man, I got two large pizzas.” A man said, the logo from a local pizzeria on his shirt and hat. He opened up the bag, handing Dean the order with a forced smile on his face.

Dean shoved his gun into his gun into his pocket, hoping that the man hadn’t seen it. He eagerly took the pizzas, the heat warming his hands. His stomach growled as if on cue. The pizza delivery guy eyed Dean before turning and leaving.

Dean shut the door, eyes focused on the pizzas in his hands as he returned to the living room where you and Sam were sitting. “Pizza?” Sam asked, perking up in his seat.

“Dude, yeah.” Dean said, setting them down in front of his brother.  Sam almost jumped out of his seat as he got a better look.

You laughed, unable to contain yourself at the boy’s sudden excitement. “Yeah I ordered it. You two looked hungry.” You shook your phone at them, the screen blank but enough to reiterate your point.

The boys looked at you with love in their eyes. “You are the best.” Dean cooed, opening the box slowly. “I take that back, this is the best.” Dean all but moaned as he took his first bite. Sam followed suit, taking a piece directly from the box.

“Is it really that good?” You asked, leaning forward and taking your own slice and leaning back in your seat. “Its pizza guys, calm down.”

Dean spoke with his mouth full, words incomprehensible. Sam laughed, covering his mouth as he did so. You shook your head, unable to believe that this was the big bad Sam and Dean Winchester. The crazy hunter duo.

It didn’t take long for the brothers to finish the food in front of them, leaning back and patting their full stomachs. “Its late,” Sam sighed, “We should go and get a hotel room.” Neither boy moved, both stuffed and tired.

“Or-“ You started, “I have a guest room. And since I’ll probably just sleep out here, someone can take my room.”

“Y/N we couldn’t-“ Sam started, but Dean punched him in the shoulder. “Or we could. I guess I’ll go get the bags.” Sam groaned as he got to his feet, “Too much pizza.”

Dean nodded in agreement.

“I think Im’a take a quick shower, I didn’t get to wash my hair earlier.” You stood, body aching at the sudden movement. You’d been sitting for so long now, muscles growing stiff.

“Here, let me help you.” Dean started to get up, “Take it easy Y/N" He wrapped an arm around you, holding you up with his strong arms. He pressed you into his side, your feet practically off the ground. He awkwardly helped you into the bathroom, your bloody and wet discarded clothes from earlier till laying on the ground.

You sighed, hands pressing into your counter as you leaned on it for support. “Thanks Dean. I got it from here.”

Dean looked down at you, his green eyes searching you. “Yeah- okay.” Dean scratched at his chin, fingers scraping against his stubble. “Yeah. I’ll be out here, just yell if you do need help.” He left slowly, hand lingering on the door knob until he heard the shower start.

You stripped, your new clothes falling into a new pile, a less bloody and damaged pile. You stuck your hand in the shower, feeling the warmth before stepping in. You hissed as the water ran down your body, the heat hitting your cuts.

You took a moment, letting the water try and clear your mind. Only it wasn’t working. No. Instead your mind was racing, ‘ _Dean Winchester is here. Dean and Sam Winchester in your home._ ’ You stepped forward, the water running down your face. ‘ _Dean Winchester_.’

Your hands started to trail down your body, hands gliding over your stomach slowly and carefully. There was a heat, a new one, burning between your legs. ‘ _Dean_.’ Your fingers pushed their way between your folds, rubbing small circles against the most sensitive part of your body.

Your mind raced, forgetting everything in the world right now and taking you back, back to years before. Years ago when Dean had met up with you at a bar. You could remember that night in perfect detail, because who would forget sex with Dean? The way his rough hands trailed over your body, his lips on yours, the way he- filled you.

The water warmed you, the sudden heat pooling inside of you. “Dean.” Your breathing grew heavy, heartbeat racing as you brought yourself close to release. “Oh, fuck.” You breathed, your other hand reaching up to pinch at your nipple.

The shower curtain flung open, a hand reaching out and gripping your neck. You were pushed against the cold tile in an instant. Your eyes focused on the person in front of you. On the green eyes that were so powerful in front of you. You couldn’t breathe, not because of the hand around your wrist, but because of the hunger and need on Dean’s face.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean tapped his fingers on his lap as he sat on the edge of your bed. He looked around the room, drinking in the fine details that let him peak into your life that let him understand a bit about you. There wasn’t much, though he hadn’t expected too much since you too were a hunter.

He’d never been in your home before, his mind racing quickly over to the last time he met you, and how quickly things had ended. He sighed, running a hand down his stubble. What was he doing here? Why had he rushed to come down with just a phone call?

He could hear the shower running, hear the water hitting the tiles. And then he heard it, his name breathy and sexual out of your lips. Dean perked up at this, jumping to his feet and walking to the door. He pressed an ear against it, trying to hear beyond the water.

He opened the door just enough, steam rolling out into the coldness of the air. He could hear it now, the soft little moans leaving your lips. Dean wasn’t sure what came over him as he entered the room, silently shutting the door behind him.

The room was filled with steam, the mirror fogged up completely, so he was just a figure standing there. “Oh, fuck.” You moaned, and Dean lost himself. He could feel the tightness in his jeans, his body moving without him thinking. He could hear your heavy breathing, could hear your soft little moans from behind the curtain.

He stripped quickly, his clothes falling at his feet. He cursed to himself as he pried off his boots, letting them join the mess of clothes he had created. He wasted no time. He threw back the curtain, his hand reaching for you as he stepped in and joined you.

His fingers wrapped around your throat, only giving you enough pressure to let you know he was there, and he needed you. He pressed himself against you, your back meeting with the cold tile. The water washed over him, but it seemed almost nonexistent at this point, all he could think about was your naked body before you, how he had caught you with your hands in naughty places.

“Say my name again.” Dean’s voice was low, gravely and deep. You could feel his hardness against your thigh, your hands wrapped around his wrist as you attempted to pull him off of you. That was until you knew it was him.

You licked your lips. “Dean.” You said, and Dean pressed his hips harder into you, you hissed, closing your eyes before you could focus on Dean once more. “What are you doing in here Dean?” You asked, and had you been able to blush, you would have. But the heat from the shower was already making your body red.

Dean didn’t reply.  His eyes boring into you, pitch black and full of sexual desire. Why was Dean in here? Even Dean didn’t know the answer to that. Dean focused on your lips, parted and panting. He licked his own, his cock twitching against your thigh. He tightened his grip, fingers pressing tightly into you. He watched you close your lips and felt your throat as you swallowed.

“Kiss me.” You breathed, “Please.”

Dean did as he was told, lips mashing into yours with a newfound hunger that you both shared. He released you from his grasp, hand running up into your hair he pushed your face against his. His tongue drove inside you, creating a shattering moan that was music to his ears.

You arched against him, pressing your wet skin against his. Dean’s lips brushed against your cheek, “Tell me what you were thinking about.” Dean breathed into your ear, his stubble pressing into your cheek.  

“Wh-what?’ You asked, your body was shaking in need. You were confused by his question, the sudden stopping of his teasing, and yet this was the most teasing thing he could do to you. The steam clouded your vision, or was that because of Dean’s body being pressed against yours?

Dean pulled himself away from you, looking deep into your eyes. “Tell me- what were you thinking about while you-“ Deans fingers found you sweet spot, pressing fingers against your already swollen clit. “Is this how you were doing it?” He asked, rubbing small circles against you.

You moaned at his touches, body practically writhing because of him. “I was-“ You gulped, trying to regain your composure, it was hard to concentrate with Dean’s hands where they were. “I was thinking about that night.” You breathed in, his fingers were moving faster now, sliding down your folds and threatening to enter you. “I was thinking about you tasting me.”

Dean groaned at this, “That was a good part. You tasted so good Y/N. So sweet.” He ran his fingers up your stomach, careful to not touch any of the stitches covering you. He trailed his thumb against your nipple, “Tell me, what you would like me to do to you now?”

He thrust one finger inside of you, crooking it and hitting you in the spot that turned your moans into one long high-pitched scream. You shuddered against him, legs shaking. “I want-“ Your breathing was fast and ragged, “I want you on your knees. “

He dropped down, almost instantly, knees hitting the tub below him.  “Like this?” his breath was hot against you, his hands holding your hips as he kneeled ready to wrap his lips around you. The water was directly on him now, washing over him, rippling down his chest. But Dean wanted to tease you, looking up at you as he slowly made himself grow closer to you.

“Mmhmm.” You moaned, no longer wanting to wait for him to become closer. You moved your hips closer, inching yourself towards Dean’s mouth. “Dean Please.” You begged, closing your eyes and hoping Dean would grant your wish.

He gave you a smirk, raising your thigh, letting it rest on his shoulder. He gave one slow lick over all of you. And then Dean didn’t waste time, licking and thrusting his tongue deep inside of you. He used his skill to quickly build you up and push you over the edge. Licking, sucking, and nibbling in all the right places to make you moan his name again.

You pressed your head into the tiles, arching your back to help him get deeper inside of you. You whimpered, you hand reaching down, fingers tangling in his wet hair. “Dean!” You moaned.

Dean ran his tongue soothingly over your sensitive and soaked flesh once more before pulling away. He licked his lips before he spoke, savoring the taste of you like he was never going to get anymore. “Is this what you were thinking about while you played with yourself?” He asked, pulling away and letting his fingers do all the work.

You whimpered at the sudden loss of him, but welcomed his fingers pumping in and out of you, driving you over the edge. He stood, once more towering over you. “You thought about how good it would feel to have my tongue inside you like that?”

“Yes Dean. I did.” You said between breaths, you were putty in his hands, able and willing to do whatever he wished of you. Dean knew just when to slow his movements down, knew just when you were about to reach your climax and stopped himself from letting you.

You gripped at his length, hand feeling just how hard and erect he was. Dean growled, pressing his forehead into the tiles to cool himself off. Your hand stroking up and down slowly. It was your turn to tease him.

Dean smirked, his confidence growing. “Tell me Y/N,” He asked, his fingers slowing until they rested inside of you, your hand still pumping fingers wrapped around him in that perfect way. “What else do you want from me?” Dean’s voice was gravely, his teeth clenched tight as he tried to hold back his own moans.

You licked your lips, mind racing as you tried to think of what you wanted from Dean. But his fingers were twitching inside of you, sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout your body. “I want you-“ You breathed, “-inside of me.”

Dean’s mouth found yours again, lips tasting sweet with a little tang from your pussy. Dean’s hands were carefully running down your sides, when he felt like he was at a safe place, he gripped your thighs. “Jump.”

You did as you were told, Dean catching you and hold you up. He didn’t say anything as he lined himself up, his lips still pressing into you as he entered you. His movements slow, feeling every agonizing inch of your tight wet hole. “Jesus Y/N.” He groaned.

He didn’t slow his movements, giving you full, hard thrusts. Your breasts bouncing with each. Every point of your body sparked with desire, noises leaving the both of you unwillingly. His thrusts gained a steady tempo, your hands clawing into his back. Dean clamped your hips to your waist, driving him further into you until your water-slick bodies were sliding together.

“Dean-“ You pleaded, so close to your own release.

“I know.” He grunted, his movements suddenly moving faster. A hand moved to your back, and Dean’s hips started grinding deeper and harder into you. Your legs tightened around him as you came, hard. Your body shaking against him. Every muscle tensed and then relaxed, sweet bliss washing over you. Dean was only a few moments behind you. His body twitching a few times before he stopped moving all together.

He slipped out of you and grunted before helping you back down. The water was cold by now, still washing over your hot bodies. You both breathed heavy, heart beats starting to return to normal. Dean loosened his grip on you, reaching over to turn the water off with a flick of his wrist.

Dean stepped out of the shower first, water droplets falling to the rug at his feet. You joined him not long after, your muscles having a whole new reason to ache as you tried to step over and join Dean in your bathroom.

He was already toweling himself off, watching you as you stood, nervously trying to cover your body. “Y/N, don’t do that.” He said, suddenly standing before you. He was still naked, his now wet towel in his hand.

“Here.” He said, grabbing at a new towel, a dry towel and dabbing it against your body. “Don’t want these to stay too wet.” He breathed, patting your stitches gently. He would stop when you’d hiss, knowing that they were a pain in the ass. But he tried, he tried so hard to be gentle with you.

Dean ran the towel along your legs, taking his time and making sure he was doing the best job ever. He was on his knees again, hands trailing up your legs. He stopped at your throbbing pussy, licking his lips before he gave it a gentle kiss and stood back up.

“You don’t have to do all this Dean.” Your eyes were half open as you spoke. You suddenly realized just how long this day had been. “I really will be okay. I know how to take care of myself.”

“I think you meant to say thank you.” Dean didn’t say it out of spite, he didn’t say it in an angry way, no. He knew where you were coming from, but that didn’t stop him from running the towel over your breasts, nipples still erect.

The difference was, he wasn’t doing this because you were hurt, he was doing this because he cared and wanted to do something sweet. He’d never tell you that though. It was easier for you to think he cared less, that he was just trying to make sure he took care of you and your wounds. Easier because eventually he would pack up the Impala and be out on the road again.

Dean wrapped himself in a towel before slipping out of the bathroom in search of his bag. You wrapped yourself up, leaning against the counter and replaying what had just happened in your mind. ‘You fucked Dean. Again.’ You sucked in your lower lip. ‘And it was just as great as you remembered.’

Dean returned, fully clothed as you were almost done dressing yourself. You opted for all the layers and just threw on an oversized shirt. It covered all it needed to and served its purpose of being pajamas. “Sam pick the room upstairs?” You asked, not even bothering to look over at Dean as he sat on the corner of your bed.

“Yeah. And hey, you don’t have to give me your room. I’ll take the couch really.” Dean scratched at his arm, he was watching you, but he had to look away or else you’d be repeating what happened in the shower. And Dean was suddenly reminded of your condition, and how he should have never fucked you like that. Had he hurt you? Did he open any stitches? All questions he wanted to ask, but not asking was easier.

“I’m not making you sleep on that thing. It’s half the size of you.” You turned to him finally. He looked so childlike, bent over scratching at his arm, his hair drying flat against his forehead. It was fluffy, your fingers itching to run through it before he gelled it up and styled it.

“I don’t mind.” Dean looked up at you, “I probably won’t be doing any sleep anyway. I’m going to look over your notes and try and figure out this case.”

“There’s the Dean I remember. His nose buried in lore.” You rolled your eyes. Dean had taken his job very serious. More serious than any other hunter you had met in the past few years. It’s what drew you to him in the first place, he was so dedicated and passionate about it.

“That’s not all I bury my nose in.” He joked, giving you a wink.

“Dean.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

Dean raised his hands, “I know, that was bad.” He stood, “But please, you need the rest more than I do. Sleep in here. I’ll be fine out there.”

You sighed, “If you can’t sleep out there you can come in here. But no more funny business.” You pointed a stern finger at him.

Dean nodded in understanding, “I don’t know what that was.” He said, eyes flicking to the bathroom. “I didn’t come here to do that I promise.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. In there, Dean was confident, Dean was controlling. Same when he was on a hunt, he walked around with his chest puffed out, you could practically taste the testosterone when you stood near him. But now, he was embarrassed, his cheeks were flushed, he couldn’t look at you directly.

“It’s okay Dean. I think we both needed that. And hey, now that it’s out of the way we can focus.”

Dean left your room after ordering you to get some rest. He made a joke about you looking like shit which you both laughed about, and he shut your door. There were a stack of blankets on the table where the pizza boxes had previously been, and Dean made quick work of setting them all out and making a makeshift bed for himself.

The couch was small, he wasn’t even sure he would fit on it, let alone be able to actually fall asleep on it. But like he said, he wasn’t planning on catching any Z’s any time soon. He was wide awake now, head clear and ready to work.

“Really?” Sam said, leaning against the frame in the stairs. “You couldn’t wait?” He asked.

Dean didn’t have to turn around to see the judgement on his brother’s face. “Don’t Sam.”

“I heard every part of it Dean, don’t tell me not to go there.” Sam was angry. “She just passed out from blood loss. She had a knife wound that I’m actually surprised didn’t kill her. You saw the house, did you not see how much blood she lost? And then you come back here and couldn’t keep your hands off of her?”

“Sam.” Dean turned to his brother, the last thing he wanted to do was fight with him right now, but that’s where Sam was going, his hushed yelling echoing in Dean’s mind.

“Your right Dean. I’ll just go to bed.”


	4. Chapter 4

You awoke alone, not that you expected any different. Dean was probably still combing over your notes as if he would find something different the 1000th time reading them, or passed out on the couch. You crawled out of bed, sliding your feet to the floor and letting your toes get accustomed to standing once more. Your body felt better, but that didn’t stop you from reaching for the pain killers and popping a few into your mouth.

You walked out carefully, trying to be as quiet as you could to keep from waking Dean if he happened to be asleep. You were shocked to find that both Sam and Dean were awake, and had brought breakfast already and had devoured what seemed to be a pile of whatever they had ordered.

“You guys know sleep is a thing right?” You asked, finally gaining the attention of the Winchester brothers. They glanced at you quickly before returning to their food and notes. You shook your head, joining them on the previously blood stained couch. “Did you- Did you clean this?” You asked, hand rubbing over the fibers that no longer were a dark red color.

Dean nodded, his mouth full of food, which you hoped was why he didn’t answer you. “Thank you.”

“Its not a big deal.” Dean said after he swallowed his food, but he quickly took another bite and started to chew again.

Sam pointed to the bag in the middle of your table, “There is more. Help yourself.” He said. You declined his offer respectfully.

“Okay. So the plan for today is to go find out where this, Scott Rothwell could be hiding. Its only a matter of time before he needs to eat again.” Dean cleaned his hands on his jeans. He threw his file on the table facing you. “Unless you have any insight you haven’t written in your notes.”

“No. my notes were everything I knew. Except Scott had a best friend, who as far as I remember is still alive. A uh- Luke something-or-other.” You tried to rack your mind around the name, searching for it and still coming up short.

“Okay. What do we know about Luke?” Sam asked, he crumpled his wrapper into a ball and tossed it into the pile the brothers had created. He leaned back finally feeling relaxed enough.

You sighed, “Not much really. He frequents the same bar, but not a lot of people knew about him.” Luke had been a pain in your ass honestly. He was a piece of the puzzle you hadn’t been able to find out where it fit, but you knew it was a part of this case. You’d cased out the joint and never saw him, which only added to your frustration.

Dean’s eyes lit up, “Bar? Awesome.” Dean rubbed his hands together.

“Dean,” Sam rolled his eyes.

Dean cleared his throat. “Don’t worry Sammy.” Dean jumped up, pulling at the hem of his flannel.

“Don’t get too excited there Dean. The bar doesn’t open for another 4 hours.” You watched the excitement drain from his face as he flopped back down on the couch. “So in the four hours that we’re waiting, what are we going do to?”

“You, are not going to do anything.” Sam leaned forward.

You sighed, “Sam, I am not a baby. I can get back up and do some role play with some citizens.”  You went to move, but the pain that seared through your body had you sitting back in your chair.

“Yeah, you’re fine.” Sam said, shaking his head.

* * *

Sam and Dean had kept you busy doing research, which in any other instant you would have complained about. But right now? Sitting on your ass and reading wasn’t that big of a deal. Especially since getting up and moving around seemed to be an impossible feat right now.

Sam left before Dean, saying that he was once more going to case the neighborhood and house once more for any clue. Dean huffed and puffed as he waited, bored out of his mind as he sat back and watched you read the same books he read all night.

“I’m going with you.” You closed your book, words so sure as they left your mouth.

Dean sat forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Like hell.” His face was stern, his fingers interlocked and you could have sworn this was his angry father pose.

“Look, if I stay in this house, I will go insane. I need to get out.” You set your book down on the arm of your chair, you kicked your feet out, letting them swing above the floor. “And how much trouble can I get in sitting at a bar?”

Dean shook his head. “A lot. Have you seen yourself?” He couldn’t help his eyes raking over you. Your bare legs exposed for him to see. He was thankful you hadn’t put on any shorts or pants, because he had never been much of a leg man, but damn he liked the way yours looked.

“Yeah. What about it?” You asked.

Dean ran a hand down his cheek, scratching at the stubble there. “There’s not talking you out of this is there?” You shook your head no. “Okay then get dressed.”

You did as you were told, walking as quickly as your body would allow you to your room. You slipped into something easy, something that covered all your cuts and bruises so questions weren’t asked. You joined Dean a few moments after, dressed and ready to hit the bar.

“Okay. Ready?” You asked practically bouncing in place.

Dean got up, joining you in the hall where you stood. “You clean up nicely.” He said as he walked past you. He opened your door, waving for you to go on ahead of him.

“The Impala. I can’t believe I almost forgot about her.” You trailed your hand against the sleek black paint. You had never actually been in the car, just pressed up against it. “She’s still beautiful. You take good care of her.”

Dean smiled proudly down at his car, “Of course I do. She’s my baby.”

Your hand hovered over the handle, suddenly feeling very nervous. Dean watched you from above the car, a worried look on his face as he did. You breathed in deep before opening the door and sliding into the passenger seat. Dean joining you not long after.

The bar was dingy, dirty, and dark. The crowd was minimal, but that was what you had expected when it was only 3pm. Dean made himself comfortable at the bar, ordering two beers with ease before you could even crawl onto your own barstool.

The bartender set the drinks in front of you both, giving Dean a little wink and smile before walking away. “So what’s this Luke character look like?”

“He uh- usually wears a suit. His hair a bit longer than normal, sort of like Sam’s I guess. He’s- tall, but I guess you are too so how would you know.” You sighed, “I’ll let you know if he comes in.”

Dean drank from his cup the beer quickly disappearing. He ordered another, this one he drank slower, as if savoring the flavor. You watched him, unsure of why it was so captivating. The way his lips wrapped around the glass, watching his throat as he swallowed. You forced your eyes to look away, to pay attention to anything but Dean Winchester.

It didn’t take as long as you thought for Luke to show up, and when he did the whole bar seemed to change. “That’s him.” You breathed, still not looking at Dean. You heard him shift though, the soft intake of air as he turned.

“Okay. So I’ll go talk to him. See what I can’t figure out about him.” Dean lapped up the rest of his drink, setting the now empty mug down for the bartender to clear.

“You’re just going to walk up to a guy in a bar and start talking to him? Does that usually work for you?” You asked, eyeing him over. Dean was hot, and Dean probably never got turned down when talking to a girl; but this was a guy you were talking about.

“Well- no. But-“ Dean suddenly seemed saddened. He looked down at himself, his insecurities flying through the roof as he thought about what you asked.

You laughed, “I’ll talk to him. I’ll ask him all the right questions don’t worry.” You pat Dean on the chest, hand lingering a little longer so you could feel the firmness underneath. “Just sit here, I’ll be back.”

You pulled your shirt down, exposing just enough of your cleavage to make Dean’s eyes widen at you. “Look good?” You asked, chest sticking out as you did. Dean didn’t speak, he just nodded and returned his attention to the bar before he said something that would get him in trouble.

You made your way to Luke, hips swaying as you closed the gap between the two of you. He noticed you before you made it to his small little table where he sat alone, licking his lips as he prepared for you to join him.

“Well hello, you sure you are in the right place?” He asked as he gestured to the rest of the bar. It was shady, but so were just about every hunter bar you had gone into.

You took your seat, making sure to keep your chest exposed as you leaned forward. “I think I’m in the right place now. Names Stacy.” You stuck your hand out for him to shake, which he did limply.

“So Stacy, what brings you to this part of the neighborhood?” Luke never took his eyes off of you, his tongue darting across his chapped lips as he trailed down your body. He lingered on your chest, but that was what you wanted him to do.

“I was looking for a friend.” You trailed a finger on his own, “I haven’t heard from him in a few days and I’m starting to worry.”

“Stacy you might need to rethink your friends if they hang out here.”

“His names Scott.” You blurted out without thinking. You could suddenly feel Dean’s eyes on you and you were incapable of thinking straight. You coughed into your arm, giving Dean a look to back off as you did.

Luke visibly got nervous, running his hands along his jeans. “Scott?” He asked, a lump in his throat. For the first time since you had joined him he looked away, eyes unable to focus on any one thing in the bar. His fingers tapped against his glass, “Scott.” He whispered.

You watched, it was always the tough ones that broke like this. Luke was practically squirming in his seat at the mention of his now lost friend. “Yeah, Scott Rothwell?”

“How did you know Scott?” He was angry, his hand clamping around yours. His eyes were full of fire as he asked, leaning in close and barely speaking above a whisper.

Despite the urge to rip your hand from his, you didn’t. You kept your hands still. Dean was watching after all, and if you started moving suddenly Dean would blow your cover, and not in a fun walk out of here laughing way. “We went to school together, and just sort of kept in touch over the years.” You lied.

“I think I might know something about Scott, but I can’t discuss it here.” Luke looked around the bar again, eyes scanning the far and few that were here. You nodded in understanding. “But I know a place I can.”

He never let go of you, never let his grip on you falter as he led you out the bar. You glanced at Dean, hoping he was watching, but of course he wasn’t. He was flirting with the bartender, ‘ _Of course he was_.’

Luke led you to his car, throwing you into the back seat. He slammed the door shut, quickly jumping into his own and locking the door. “What’s going on?” You asked, trying to play innocent. You reached into your pocket, hoping that Luke hadn’t seen your movements.

You knew you couldn’t call Sam or Dean, but turning on your GPS would hopefully allow them to track you if it came down to it. You cursed at Dean for flirting with the bartender instead of paying attention to you. ‘ _You did tell him to back off, that you had this_.’

‘ _Shuddup_ ’

“I know your deal.” Luke looked back at you through his rearview mirror, “You’re just like the ones before you. Scott told me about you.” A sudden realization hit him, like a light bulb going off above his head. “You were the one at the house weren’t you?”

“House?” You lied.

Luke chuckled, “Yeah. He attacked you but you got away. Oh he’s going to love seeing you.” Luke didn’t stop laughing, a new face on. It scared you, this side of Luke you didn’t want to see.

“Wait you have him?” You tried to remain calm, tried to wrap your mind around all that was happening. You looked behind you, hoping that the black Impala would be behind you.

“Yeah. He’s safer with me. Safer than being out on the streets where people like you can find him.” Luke spat out his words, his anger returning. He turned sharply, forcing you to slide in the back seat and hit your head against the window.

“You do know what he is don’t you?” You reached up, blood coating your fingers. ‘ _Just what you need, to lose more blood_.’

“Scotts my friend, nothing will change that.”

“Luke, you can’t keep something like him locked up. He needs to feed, and he’s not going to care who you are.” You tried to lean forward, but as you did Luke once more took a sharp turn, throwing you around the back seat again. “He already ate his whole family. Why wouldn’t he eat you as well?”

Luke stopped the car in front of a house, the windows boarded up and cation tape surrounding it. The car’s engine was still running. Luke tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. Repeating your questions in his head. You had a point, one that Luke had failed to ask himself over the few days that he had been trying to take care of his best friend. But now, now he wasn’t sure what he was doing.

“Luke-“

“Shut up!” Luke yelled, turning the car off and ripping the keys out of the ignition. He threw open his door, slammed it shut, and made his way to yours. You kicked, screamed, and tried to punch his hands away. But he gripped your ankle and pulled hard. You slid with ease against his leather seats, and when your body hit the sidewalk outside he didn’t even bother to make sure your head wouldn’t hit the ground either.


End file.
